Disclaimer: Paramount rules, I just like to have nasty little fantasies about 'em. This is a mild bondage story and is definitely NC-17. If you don't like that or if you're under 18 then stop reading. No I really mean it, stop! Stop now! Okay, if you're offended it's your own fault. (Don't let your mom catch you reading it!)

Vulcan words in this and all of my stories come from the Vulcan Language Institute web site, without their permission. So don't turn me in or I won't be able to write anymore smut.

Veltra

By Gueniver

"That's outrageous!"

"What is disturbing you, Christine?" Spock rolled over in bed to see his lover staring in frustration at the monitor. Apparently she had had difficulty sleeping and had been reading quietly in the dark.

"Oh Spock, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to wake you. I couldn't sleep.-"

"I have surmised as much." He sat up sleepily and moved to the edge of the bed peering over her shoulder.

"What disturbs you?"

She blushed suddenly and moved her hand to close the file, but Spock's Vulcan reflexes were much quicker. "Nothing." she replied sheepishly.

Spock recognized the text. It came from a Standard translation of Vulcan ceremonies. The author was reasonably reliable, but given Vulcan's attitudes regarding privacy, the text was not very accurate. Spock had, naturally read the text, wanting to better understand what humans believed they knew about Vulcans. He had long ago come to the conclusion that it was not very much.

The text that was displayed was one discussing Vulcan marriage. Specifically a 'script' of the ceremony. One that the author assured he had witnessed with his own eyes.

Spock inhaled deeply, his mouth tight with concentration. He sighed. It was as good a time as any to discuss it.

"I was just curious, Spock. I'm not trying to send any hidden messages. I just want to be...prepared. I would have asked you, but I didn't want you to think..."

"Christine, your curiosity is quite natural." His baritone voice warm. He placed his hand on her arm gently. "I believe that given the progression of our relationship it is logical to explore the probability of marriage. I am, however, concerned that your source of information is less than reliable."

"Well, I should hope so!" She turned to the monitor in disgust, pointing to a section of text. "I can't believe this is right! They must have had first year language students translating."

He read the text that she pointed to. He understood her reaction immediately. "Ah yes."

"Chattel? That's not right is it? I can't believe any Vulcan worth their logic would willingly become the property of another."

She searched his face, he did not answer for a moment. He removed his hand from her arm and rose to retrieve a data disk from his personal library, but not before she caught a brief mental flash. It was so brief that she immediately dismissed.

"I believe this will aid our discussion." He deposited the disk in the computer, ran his hands over the command keys and spoke "Computer display 'Koon-ut-Kalifee' text."

A moment later the text appeared. It was beautiful, like hand painted music. Christine refrained from sharing her emotional adjective. She wanted to understand what it meant, not discuss the value of emotionalism.

"Here," he pointed to the text. "The author is incorrect. In a standard bonding ceremony the matron asks the woman if she is prepared to become a wife to the man. The word used is specific to gender but has its roots in the ancient word for partner."

"Hmm," she looked thoughtfully at the text, wishing desperately that she could read it. Perhaps someday she would learn. "I don't understand, Spock, why would he use the word 'chattel'?"

"Perhaps because he does not understand the role of women in Vulcan society." a half-truth that he hoped would suffice. There were other reasons the author might misinterpret the wording. For a moment it appeared that she would accept his explanation.

"Wait a minute, you said in a standard bonding ceremony, didn't you?" Her eyes sparkled. She caught him. He looked uncomfortable.

"That is what I said." He offered nothing else.

She tilted her head to one side, "Spock, I know this is difficult for you. If you don't want to talk about it, I understand."

He sat on the corner of the bed once again. It was inevitable, she was going to ask. Either today or on some other day. "I will answer any questions that I can, Christine."

"Alright, what if challenge is declared?"

Spock paused for a long time, memories of T'Pring inevitably rose up. He stifled a sigh, he stared blankly at the wall.

Sensing his discomfort she suddenly waved her hands. "I'm sorry, never mind, Spock. It's not that important. Let's go to bed. We can talk about it another time."

She shut off the monitor and climbed around him into his bed. "Spock?" her voice was small, perhaps she had hurt his feelings (although she knew he would never admit to it). She should never have asked about it.

He turned to face her his face still, sadness lined his eyes.

"I would never do something like that to you. You know that, don't you? I only asked because I was curious."

He lay down next to her silently. For a moment she wasn't sure what to do. All she could think was that she really had blown it.

Finally he spoke, his voice low and soft, it had an odd quality that she couldn't describe, "In the ancient times, Vulcans often fought for their mates. Such battles were not unlike many Terran animals in rut that vie for the privilege of mating with the strongest and most desirable mate. The victor in such battles on Vulcan claimed their mate as Veltra - property."

She was silent for a long moment. She rolled up on her elbow and placed one hand on his chest. She ran her hand up his chest to his chin and turned him to face her. His eyes were closed for a moment. She wanted to thank him for his candor. She knew it was difficult.

When he opened his eyes, however, she was treated to a momentary flash, a mental image. Her eyes widened at the image. His shields went up, his face instantly impassive.

"Whoa now, wait a minute." she laughed "Don't you do that, mister!" she tapped his chest with one finger punctuating her words. "What was that?"

He instantly raised an eyebrow, evading the issue "To what do you refer?"

She laughed again, "You're going to make me drag it out of you. Aren't you?"

"I do not understand the question, nor do I wish to be dragged." He effected an innocent expression and moved to kiss her "I would prefer a different activity altogether." an obvious attempt to distract her.

She backed away, one hand on his chest stopping him. She laughed. "What was that word again?" She smiled broadly, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

His eyes flickered the barest panic. He almost continued the ruse, but decided it was best not to. He swallowed hard, "Veltra." He tried to remain impassive, but knew he was trying too hard.

She leaned into him with sultry bedroom eyes, her mouth a hair's breath from his. She whispered "Veltra." she kissed him firmly, felt his mouth soften under her kiss, felt the mental barrier he had erected get thinner and thinner. She moved over him now, her body fully covering his, her hands slid up into his hair, her thumbs lightly traced up to the tip of his ears, her tongue slipping past his parted lips. Finally a small sound, a half moan escaped him. She sent the word to him mentally and flash the image came again, clearer than before. Comprehension flooded her mind. Her eyes flew open in surprise.

Spock too opened his eyes. He held her tightly, instantly apologetic, certain he would be greeted with her disdain.

"Christine, I ask forgiveness. I would never ask such a thing of you. I-"

She silenced him with a kiss. Then she rose up on her elbows and peered deeply into his eyes, she was laughing. "It's alright. Spock, everyone has fantasies. Everyone - shush, don't tell me Vulcan's don't indulge in that sort of thing. I am sure that any sexual being with any sort of imagination indulges in sexual fantasy. Surely you know that? You've certainly been tolerant of my fantasies." She smiled teasingly, then kissed him again. "And despite what you believe I do not find your fantasy distasteful."

He blushed furiously clearly uncomfortable with the subject. "It is not something I wish to discuss, Christine."

"Not even with me?" she sounded disappointed.

"Christine, I - Perhaps another time." He promised. It was the best he could offer for the moment. She pursed her lips and tried to look unhappy, but he quickly pulled her down into another kiss and she was unable to concentrate on her disappointment any further. Within moments he had so effectively distracted her, he hoped the subject would not arise again.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It took almost 8 weeks to gather together all that she required. She timed it for their next Shore Leave. The hardest part had been keeping it from him. By the time Enterprise was in standard orbit around Earth, she was sure he *must* have it figured out. But when he came to her quarters he seemed oblivious to her devious plan. He agreed to meet her at the hotel where she had already made reservations. She told him she had an errand to run, but that the room would be available after 1800.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He was prompt, as always, arriving at precisely 1800. He knew that she had something planned, but also knew of her desire to surprise him. He had indulged her often on this note, insisting that it was not necessary, inevitably receiving the same response. It brought her pleasure to surprise him.

She was dressed comfortably, but rather demurely. He felt his curiosity rise. She wore a simple midnight blue dress in a rich velvet that clung to her firm body down its full length. It was long, floor length, and it covered almost every inch of her body. He found himself looking forward to the opportunity to remove it. She smiled easily at him, locking the door and setting it to Do Not Disturb. One of the many details she had ensured was the reliability of their privacy this evening.

She moved slowly, purposefully to the bar and picked up two glasses of thin crimson liquid. She was trembling, her heart pounded madly in her chest. It was not too late. She could still stop. They could go out to dinner and have a nice quiet night.

When she turned to face him she caught the appreciative look in his eyes. He was waiting patiently for the surprise. He extended his hand and graciously took the glass from her. He sipped it, eyebrow shot up. An alcoholic beverage. It had a very pleasing taste. He had never tasted it before. "What is this?"

"Do you like it?" she smiled searching his face for an indication of whether he knew what it was.

"Actually it is quite good." He took a another drink, this time savoring the flavor.

"It is Radal. I found a trader who assured me it came from Vulcan and that it was a very good year. Before tonight I had never tried it myself." She took a small sip. It was fiery and sweet and tasted almost like blackberries. She felt it move down her throat, warming her as it went, bolstering her courage.

She drew herself up and moved closer to Spock. She put one arm around his neck and pulled him to her for a kiss, unhurried and passionate. She tasted the Radal on his lips, exotic and warm. After a moment she stepped out of his embrace and took his glass with her. She smiled over her shoulder, inviting him to the bedroom.

He smiled ever so slightly and followed her to the dark room. She placed the glasses on the small table by the door and gestured him in to the dark room. He began to turn and felt her hand come to rest on his neck, then he felt her squeeze. Recognition was followed closely by blackness as he slumped to the floor.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It was warm, very warm.

He felt a tap on his forehead, light and gentle.

A drop fell again, this time landing on his cheek.

He moved his head slightly, tried to move his hand to brush away the offending drops.

His eyes flew open in shock.

He could not move his hands at all.

He was greeted with a vision of Christine, as he never believed he would. His eyes widened in shock.

She stood over him, one foot one either side of his body, his naked body.

He was naked.

He only just realized he was nude and bound to the bed.

He tore his eyes from her for an instant and found his suspicions confirmed. His wrists were bound to the head of the bed. He was surprised to see that she had used the ahn-woon from his quarters. When or how she had acquired it he did not know.

Christine however was not nude, not by any means. The full impact of her costume began to settle in. He caught his breath and pressed his lips together tightly not daring to comment.

She bent slowly at the waist, her full bosom nearly spilling out of the tight bodice her dress. It was Vulcan in style, tight, angular and black cut so low he was certain that he could almost see her navel. She wore her hair loose it and it completed her appearance, she was the image he had seen once as an adolescent, a Vulcan warrior woman.

"Did I startle you?" She held one of the glasses of liquor in hand, had evidently been pouring small drops on his face to rouse him.

He swallowed hard, opened his mouth to speak.

She stopped his words with a finger pressed to his lips. She smiled seductively "It would be illogical for us to protest against our natures."

"I do not understand." He stammered.

She drained the glass in one draught, hoping she had sufficiently dosed herself with alcohol absorption inhibitor and dramatically tossed the glass aside.

He gasped in surprise at her action.

She bent down once more and ran a fingertip over his lips to the drop of Radal on his cheek, wiping it away and lifting her finger to her lips, "Your face is wet." She slipped her red stained finger between her parted lips slowly sucked the sweet liquor away. It was a slow, seductive gesture that he tried not to appreciate.

"Christine..." Spock's cheeks colored slightly, suddenly uncomfortable.

She bent her knees and straddled his chest, the short tight skirt restricting her movements. He could feel the warm smooth leather of the knee-high boots she wore press tightly against his sides.

She stopped his words with a firm kiss. He could taste the Radal on her lips. Her kiss softened, lips spread, her tongue sought out his. It was as intoxicating as the liquor. He felt himself responding to her passionate mouth. She slowly broke away, her voice the barest whisper a hair's breadth from his lips "You will address me as Lady Christine. You my prize, are...my...Veltra."

She watched his eyes for the moment when it would sink in. Saw the recognition, the denial then finally the embarrassment pass through his gaze.

She pressed two fingers to his lips lightly, traced the line of his jaw and slowly up to the tip of one upswept ear tip. He shivered at the light cool touch, but otherwise seemed unaffected.

Undaunted she smiled wickedly and leaned in once again and gently bit his lip. "Hmmm you taste good enough to eat."

She bit and kissed her way down his throat, watching the goose bumps rise on his skin at the sensations. She found the spot on the hollow of his shoulder that seemed to always coax a gasp from him and applied firm suction, not releasing until he did indeed reward her with a sharp intake of breath.

She felt his body tense beneath her, controlling his responses. After a moment he spoke, as even and tempered as he could muster. "Christine, this is not necessary."

She felt her heart sink for a moment then steeled herself. She knew this would be difficult, but she also knew it would be worth it.

She worked her way down his, kissing and nipping every inch of his magnificent form. She felt a small twinge of doubt and disappointment when she approached his navel. He showed no signs of the arousal she had been trying to hard to incite.

She glanced quickly up at his face and found him lying quietly, eyes closed, impassive. A quick tightening of his jaw betrayed his effort to remain cool. She smiled at this and bent back down and got back to work.

She swirled her tongue round his navel, ignoring his passive resistance. She inched lower, kissing down the center of his body. She was encouraged immediately by the gasp that escaped his tight control. A moment later his body began to betray him.

She moaned appreciatively at his response. She worked tortuously slowly until she heard a new sound come from him. More than a gasp, less than a moan, he continued to fight and resist the pleasure that she coaxed from his body.

Satisfied she now had his full attention she raised her head and with one cocked eyebrow came wordlessly to stand over him once again. She gazed down at him for a long time, letting the vision of him inspire her.

He was so vulnerable looking this way. Yet he remained defiant.

She began to understand the appeal this sort of lovemaking must have for some. It could be quite intoxicating.

His hair was mussed, his strong muscular body pulled taut by the carefully tied restraints. She would have a hard time controlling herself.

She stepped off the bed, walked leisurely to the nearby table.

"It must be so difficult for you..." her tone lazy and low.

"Difficult? To what do you refer?" He sounded remarkably calm.

She lifted a bottle of Antarian spring water to her lips slowly, aware of his eyes on her. She tipped the bottle up not meeting his eyes. Let the precious water overflow and trickle down her neck, disappearing into the deep valley of her tightly confined breasts.

The symbolism was not lost on Spock.

Water was precious on Vulcan. It was life and power and it was beautiful as it ran in rivulets down her body.

He ached for the taste of her wet skin.

"It is very difficult for you to submit to the whims of others. Oh, you follow orders easily enough, but to yield to someone else. That is the difficult thing for you. It is because of your Kolinahr training. Absolute mastery is a heavy burden to bear." She moved to the bed once again, stepped up easily, once again straddling his hips.

She looked intently into his eyes. "Tell me my Veltra, do you trust me?"

"Of course. Now if you will release me we can discuss this further."

She smiled slowly "Oh yes, my pet. Yes there will be a release." Her face glowed with something he could not define, but he felt certain she was not going to untie him.

Christine knelt slowly, coming to rest once again on his chest. She ran her hands easily over his chest, savoring the luxurious sensation of the soft hair. She moved her hands appreciatively over the muscles of his chest, making soft lecherous sounds of appreciation.

"Mmmmm." she sighed and slid her hands to her leather clad knees. Her fingers splayed on the black boot tops and with a quiet creak of leather spread her knees as wide as the dress allowed. Her hands moved seductively up her own body, then down again to her knees. She repeated the actions again slowly, her eyes boring into him willing him to feel the smooth black bodice, tight over ever inch of her form.

Now her hands came to the fastening in the front of the tight skirt and released a hidden clasp. The dress began to split open as her fingers rose, confirming his suspicion that she wore nothing under the dress.

He watched speechlessly as she slid her hands slowly up the inside of her thighs. The sight of her so shamelessly sexual mesmerized him. Her need demanded response from his body, but he was powerless to act on his urges.

Her lips parted and her breath quickened as she watched his reaction to her display. He barely breathed, his hands unconsciously clenched when he saw touch herself – so close and yet so very far.

She slid one hand up her body to the opening in the bodice. It disappeared into the black leather.

She was unaccustomed to such a blatant display with a lover, but the response she saw in his eyes freed her. She moaned softly moving above him.

He could only watch helplessly.

He gasped as she closed her eyes lost in the sensations. When she could take no more, she cried out wordlessly, throwing back her head and let the ecstasy wash over her.

She gasped, sighed then leaned down to kiss him again.

His mouth was tight at first but he quickly responded to her passionate lips suddenly desperate to share her pleasure. She moved once again to his neck kissing a path down his body.

He whispered unsteadily, "Christine, please release me now." Then he gasped again as she came to his navel once again, her warm breath was so close and his need was so great.

She ignored his words. Instead, kissing and nipping over his hip, down his thigh, circling painfully close but never actually answering his desire.

She kissed the inside of his thigh, moved down to his knee, licked and kissed the soft hollow behind his knee. She felt a slight shudder move through him. She moved to the opposite knee, swirled her tongue in lazy circles in the hollow there, then moved up his thigh again. As she neared his hip once again he tried to move towards her in his limited reach, but she easily dodged. Instead she slid down into the space between his thighs and placing her hands on his knees spreading him further apart caressing, teasing but never actually touching what now had become the center of his world.

She nipped the skin on his inner thigh and was rewarded with a small cry of pleasure. She kissed him several times, gently then more firmly.

Spock let out a slow moan. "Please, Christine." He pulled again on his bonds. His plea fell on deaf ears. Christine simply continued her ministrations.

Soon, she thought, soon it would be time. She chuckled low, hummed appreciatively as his responses rose.

"Oh, Christine." Spock gasped again he felt a light-headed sensation like he was falling. He was quite unaccustomed to this level of physical sensation. He tried to control his breathing, but each time he did, Christine would change her actions sufficiently to usurp his control.

Sweat began to form on his upper lip and brow.

She moved up him now and for a brief moment her hot breath was closer than ever before. He believed she might indeed slake his fire. Then she slid up further, kissing his belly and then his chest. She slid slowly up his body as she moved crushing him delightfully and painfully.

She raked his mouth once again, pressed her hips into his body, sliding her hands up his arms to his bound wrists. He felt anticipation grow, she was going to release him.

She slid her fingers between his, stretching out her body fully over his. Their tongues danced wildly. She felt him groan against her lips as she ground her hips slowly against him.

Then she slid her hands down.

He was filled with disappointment. In frustration he jerked the bonds once again. She only smiled. She spread her legs and, hands on either side of his head rose up over him once again.

"I have a secret for you." She leaned in to him slowly. Her lips brushed his ear, and whispered "You.. are.. not.. in control." She leaned back, her eyes triumphant.

It was not an accusation it was a fact. He was not in control, not of his emotions, not of his body, not of this moment.

She was in full control.

She rose up slowly and moved off the bed.

Her sudden absence from him was a new torment.

She lifted the bottle of water to her lips and drank deeply with a contented sigh. She turned to stare at his helpless form, eyes smoldering.

"Oh my precious pet. Do you need something?" she moved to the bed heady with power. The bottle grasped in one fist.

She leaned down and tenderly as a mother to a child tilted and lifted his head to help him drink. It was such a foreign sensation to have someone hold him this way. He blinked at the unreality of the gesture. He wanted to protest. But instead told himself that he was too thirsty.

She let the cool water spill over and down his neck onto the bed, he shivered at the thought of the wasted water, but drank deeply licking his lips.

She returned the bottle to the table and came back to him, standing over him as she had before. She had captured the image from his mind remarkably well and he could not imagine a more beautiful sight at that moment.

She smiled at his naked appreciation then moved into action once more.

She slid down slowly between his thighs again, returning to her earlier torture.

For a long time she could feel him struggling to free him self, then writhing to be released from this eternal state of arousal.

Then she heard it, it was the barest of whispers, but he said it.

"Please, my lady."

Her head lifted and she met his eyes. It was a desperate plea, a small surrender. She moved immediately, but slowly onto all fours. Catlike she crawled up over his body touching only the bed at his sides, stopping at his a centimeter from his delicious mouth.

"Yes my love?"

"Please, release me." His lips trembled with the effort.

"Yes, Spock. I will release you now." She spoke magnanimously.

She sat up and slid the fastener of the dress open it's full length and revealed her beautiful naked form. She slipped off the dark black dress slowly, every movement for his eyes only. She let it fall to the floor off the side of the bed.

Sliding her hand down his body, she finally touched him and guided him slowly into her self. He eagerly thrust up into her, catching her by surprise. She gasped with pleasure, but quickly pulled away from him.

She kissed him again, her eyes dangerous her voice low "Who is in control my Veltra?"

"Please, Christine." he pleaded.

"Spock." her tone was a warning.

"Please."

"What is it you want, my love?"

"I-I want. I-I.." he stammered, not quite willing to give in.

"Yes?"

He shook with effort to control his emotions to regain control of his body's response to her. His eyes closed, he fought so hard.

She leaned in again and whispered gently "It's alright, Spock. Let go. I know what you're afraid of. I won't let you fall. You can't hurt anyone, Spock. Let go."

He wanted her so much. It was dizzying, he wanted to cry out from the pain of it.

But it was so hard to let go.

She leaned back slowly.

He opened his eyes to watch her.

Her gaze locked with his.

She felt a stillness wash over him, a small shift in him. His eyes softened the trembling eased, his mouth relaxed and his lips parted slightly. A small sigh escaped him. He closed his eyes slowly and yielded to her.

She moved quickly over him, taking full advantage of the moment. She guided him into her once again, watched the pleasure ripple through his body. He leaned his head back slightly. Each time she moved on him he moaned in pleasure, but still remained relaxed under her. He began to feel the pressure rise in him, he could not control it, didn't want to.

This was not even his pleasure it was hers.

He yielded it all to her.

She kissed his neck and mouth, moving fast and hard against him, her own pleasure setting the pace. She used his hard body mercilessly and he acquiesced willingly. Sounds rose from him that she had never heard. She was lost in the powerful feeling of his body under hers. She too began to moan in pleasure. She felt the sensations sweep through them, knew they were her doing and it was overwhelming.

Spock opened his eyes again, pleasure overflowed and the room spun around him. She was lost in it too, rocking madly against him. She was crying out and he felt her tighten around him, he shouted at the sensation, unable to do anything else. His entire body stiffened as the ecstasy took him. He was so lost to the sensations he could not hear his own voice rise with Christine's. They rushed headlong into the maelstrom of pleasure and soared for what seemed like forever.

Spock did not realize he had lost consciousness until he awoke, curled on his side in Christine's loving embrace. The restraints were removed and a blanket had been pulled over them. Although the room was warm, he felt grateful for it and the illusion of security and privacy it provided. He lifted his head and found that Christine was not asleep.

She lay quietly, staring thoughtfully at the flickering candle cast shadows on the ceiling.

He paused and marveled at her, what an amazing woman she was.

"Are you alright?" She asked softly, her voice truly concerned. Her eyes were tinged with worry.

He raised a hand, surprised to see it trembling, and touched her face gently. An easy smile on his lips "Yes. And you?"

"I am fine." She reached to the side table, without moving him, and retrieved the medical kit she always brought with her. "Let me take a look at your wrists." Her eyes did not meet his.

He stopped her from opening the kit and rose up on one elbow, looking deeply into her eyes.

They gazed at one another for a long time.

Wordlessly he raised a hand to her temple, not asking nor needing permission.

She felt his touch and expected to feel the cool sensation of his thoughts and controlled emotions that she had come to recognize. But as he slipped into her mind she felt only warmth and love, raw and unrestrained.

She let a sunshine smile welcome him, her doubts eased.

/It must be so hard./ She let him feel her sadness at the restraint he so carefully used with her. She let him see through her eyes how often she had felt him pull away from the intensity of their love. She showed him that she felt his deeply hidden fear of hurting her both emotionally and physically.

/It can be difficult./ He smiled, /How did you know? When I did not?/

/Oh, my precious T'hyla, never underestimate the power of my love for you./ Her mind's voice was musical with laughter. /I am not made of glass, my heart. You need never have any fear that you will hurt me. We belong to one another, we belong together./

/Always and never, touching and touched./

/Yes. And so much more./

He let her feel his full joy at the sensation of her, all of her. His love welled up and threatened to spill over. Her eyes glistened at the strength of the emotions they shared in that moment.

After a time, fatigue took its toll on them both. Their meld lightened to a touch and Spock lay his head down in the hollow of her shoulder, not willing to give up the intimate mental and physical contact just yet. They basked in one another's love and drifted off together into sweet sleep.